Title: The Secrets of Hermione Granger
Chapter: (9-?)
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.
Author's Note: I know that I normally update every Friday, and I am now two weeks behind. I do actually have those chapters written, but I haven't had time to proofread them yet. I'm in the midst of packing. I leave on Monday for Ireland, I'm doing a semester abroad there, so I've been very busy getting ready, and all that jazz. I have all the way to Chapter 11 written, just not proofed, and I'm working on Chapter 12, I'll probably finish a number of chapters on the flight over. I have six hours to do absolutely nothing. Joy. Well, enjoy the chapter, sorry for the long wait.
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Chapter 9
Further Explanations
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The upstairs study was still in the shape that it had been left in when the Order vacated the premises after Sirius' death. The curtains were still filthy, even though Mrs. Weasley had worked so hard to keep them clean and doxy-free. Harry were sure that he could hear some faint buzzing from the drapery, but he could've been imagining it. The writing desk was still sitting in the corner of the room, but now it was left open so it could no longer play host to any rogue boggart.
Lucius Malfoy made himself comfortable in one of the large, thread-bare wing-backed chairs that populated the room. He managed to sit in the chair so elegantly, that even though it was worn and ancient, he managed to make it look like the throne in Buckingham Palace—minus the fact that it was actually a time-worn piece of antiquity that really belonged in the bin.
Draco sat himself down on the sofa, near the end and leaned against the arm, observing everyone else in the room. Harry noted with a frown that Hermione smiled at Draco and then sat down next to him, completely of her own free will. Severus seemed inclined to remain standing.
Ron threw himself down into the sofa opposite Hermione and Draco. Harry followed his friend and sat down next to him, but did not make himself as comfortable as Ron or Hermione had. He was on his guard, he did not trust half the people in the room, and Hermione was causing him some distress.
"Well," said Lucius, "I suppose we ought to start at the beginning with introductions. Let's all go around the room and introduce ourselves," he looked around the room and met everyone's eyes, pausing when he met Hermione's. "I'll begin. My name is Lucius Malfoy. I live at my ancestral home in Wiltshire with my wife and son. I am not employed, but use the Trust of the Malfoy family to provide for my family and donate heavily to causes in which I believe, such as the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society, St. Mungo's Hospital, and to the Ministry when it suits me."
Ron snorted at this, obviously trying to hide outright laughter.
Lucius frowned at Ron, but continued, "I have one son who is betrothed to be married in a few years. My wife is also a benefactress of the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society. She gives heavily to the organization and often volunteers her time and aid to the society. Alright, Mr. Weasley. I think you ought to be next," said Mr. Malfoy with a smirk.
Ron looked surprised, but he opened his mouth and said, "My name is Ronald Weasley. Erm, I live at the Burrow with my mum and dad and all my brothers and Ginny. Err, Well, I'm not really employed at all, but I think I'd like to be an auror. I think I'd be rather good at it you know," he rambled on for a bit. "Er, right. I think that's about that." He looked around the room expectantly, hoping someone else would speak up.
Draco smirked, "I'm Draco Malfoy. I live in Wiltshire with my parents at Malfoy Manor. I am currently a student at Hogwarts, or rather was a student at Hogwarts, but I was able to take my N.E.W.T.s early so I could be employed after the business with the Order is finished. I also make donations in my name to certain causes. My biggest beneficiary is the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society which is headed by the Kowal family. I also happen to be betrothed to their youngest daughter, Amelia." He smirked again as he heard Hermione groan under her breath next to him.
Severus stepped forward, "I am Severus Snape, you all know that and would do well to remember that. I am not married, not betrothed, do not have children. I have two nieces too many, and one nephew, one god-son, but he is currently being a bit of a berk and I might decide to disown him. I am a Professor at Hogwarts, although that part of my life is now over. I'll go into potion making; it's much quieter than dealing with whingy first years. I live in Bolton of Greater Manchester, Spinner's End to be precise. Don't come and visit me."
Hermione swallowed, only Harry was next and he seemed reluctant to speak, "Harry, why don't you go next. I have a lot of things to say."
He nodded to her, "Alright. I'm Harry Potter. I was a student at Hogwarts, but now I'm chasing down horcruxes. I grew up with the worst muggles you could imagine in a town in Surrey. I own this house here; it was left to me by my godfather, Sirius. I have ambitions to be an auror after I kill Voldemort," he paused, "if I survive."
Hermione cast him a sympathetic look and she took a deep breath. She looked around the room and saw Mr. Malfoy giving her an encouraging look, she felt Draco gently squeeze her hand, and Snape's face was as sour as ever. Harry and Ron looked at her curiously and she began, "My name is Amelia Kowal, I am better known by Hermione, which is my second name." She looked across the space to Harry and Ron. Ron's mouth had fallen open, but Harry was just sitting there gazing coolly at her, so she continued, "I grew up in Wiltshire as well, at the Kowal Estate. My mother now runs the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society after the murder of my father. I have an older sister, Airell, and a younger brother, Avery. Avery is a year below us and he was sorted into Slytherin, Airell finished three years ago, she was also a Slytherin. My father was a spy for Albus Dumbledore, and he was murdered by Voldemort when it was discovered. That happened only after the Tri-Wizard tournament."
Harry looked at her carefully, "Your father was murdered by Voldemort?"
"Yes," she said bravely, fighting off tears.
"Why did he spy on Voldemort?"
"Because Voldemort tried to abduct me when I was very young, so Professor Dumbledore suggested our betrothal," she nodded to Draco, "And having Uncle Lucius bring my dad into the Death Eaters. We reckoned that if Voldemort thought my father obedient he wouldn't continue to try and kill me. A year later Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow and he murdered your parents. We thought that would let us live as we wanted to, but Narcissa's cousin had sent her an owl concerning horcruxes. That meant that coming out was not possible. So, my death was staged when I was three years old, the Grangers were kind enough to allow me to use their name at Hogwarts. They are such nice people."
"Who are the Grangers if they aren't your parents?" asked Ron.
"They're the groundskeepers at my home. Uncle Edward is most kind to me, as is Aunt Jane," Hermione smiled fondly of them for a moment and then frowned, "Ironically; they really are my actual Aunt and Uncle. Uncle Edward is my father's cousin, so he's technically my second cousin, but all the same. He's a squib, Aunt Jane is a muggle. My mother was a Prince, Eileen was her aunt," Hermione looked at the ground and swallowed thickly, "Making Professor Snape my second cousin."
Harry paled at the news; Ron's mouth was agape again.
"Shut your mouth, Weasley," drawled Draco, "You're likely to catch a doxy in it the way these curtains are buzzing."
Harry abruptly stood up and walked the short distance between the sofas to hover over Hermione, "Why haven't you told us any of this?" he stood up and began pacing, "You're somehow so entangled in this whole mess and never bothered to mention it to us? To your best mates? You didn't bother telling us that little secret that you aren't who you pretend you are?"
"But I am!" Hermione said, "I am exactly who I've been acting as! There was no reason for me to act differently! I just had to change my name!"
"Mya," said Draco, "You don't have to justify yourself to these pillocks."
"Draco, you're not helping the situation."
"I never offered to. I was just making a statement."
"Look, Harry, Ron," Hermione said, "I had no choice, but once again I have no choice. I have to tell you, but you can't tell anyone else!"
"Why does he call you Mya?" asked Ron who was red around the ears and neck, clearly angry.
"Because it can be short for both Amelia and Hermione," said Draco scathingly, "Besides, I think I should be allowed to call her whatever I want. I've known her far longer than either of you. We grew up together! We've learned things about each other that you could not possibly even begin to comprehend!" He rose from the sofa and stalked towards the pair, "You don't know the number of times that you idiots sent her to me crying do you? Do you!" He was almost shouting now, "YOU," he said pointing at Ron, "are the most insensitive person I have ever cared to lay eyes on. She has liked you for as long as I can remember, and for what reason I can't even recall. And what do you do? You go and argue with her for all you're worth, as though it's the only thing you ever learned growing up." He now turned his eyes on Harry, "And YOU are the most ungrateful person I've ever had the pleasure of not meeting. I can't tell you how many times she's lain her life on the line for you. You can't imagine the stress and pressure she suffered trying to prepare you for all those inane circumstances that you worked yourself into."
Draco was standing there stiffly, but still not done in his diatribe. Both Harry and Ron had been cowed enough to sink back into the sofa, but now Draco was towering over them in such a rage as they had never seen. He pointed once again at Harry, "She tried to tell you to learn occlumency. Why? Because she knew exactly what was happening between you and Uncle Sev, she knew that you weren't learning your lessons, that you weren't practicing. Even she could break into your mind and she is the worse legilimens I've ever met!" He turned back to Ron, "You! I haven't anything left to even criticize you for, I just can't stand what you've done to her. You send her into tears without a thought or care in all the world. There were a number of times that was the only reason I made fun of you—anger over what you did to her!" Draco turned his back on them and saw his father's black expression, he looked at Hermione and saw that she was just sitting there in silence. Draco marched across the short distance, flopped on the sofa next to Hermione and grabbed her hand, then squeezing it to reassure both himself and her.
Harry and Ron were silent, flabbergasted, shocked, surprised and any of the synonyms that go with these words. Lucius observed them and sighed at his son's lack of tact. Of course the boys had often been awful to Hermione, taking her for granted, but they also cared a great deal for her and had, perhaps, not realized what they were doing and its toll on her. Lucius sat up in the chair and addressed the two boys, they looked up to him, expecting to hear more invectives and criticisms from this person who was, apparently, very important in Hermione's life.
"There is more that you need to know about us," Lucius said in a soft voice. "There are things about the Malfoys that you must know, and there are still things about Professor Snape that you must learn. Albus left us a long list to tell you after his death, and we have hardly begun to tick off items. I'm going to explain why I am a spy."
Harry swallowed, "I'd like to hear that."
Lucius nodded, "I am fortunate enough to have an heir, my son Draco. But I am not fortunate enough to have a daughter." Harry looked confused, as would most, and Lucius continued, "I had a daughter, she was not quite four years older than Draco. Violet Malfoy. She was my first daughter, and she was murdered by Voldemort when she was very young, long before Draco was even born. The date of her murder was the first of November," he gave a wry smile to Harry, "That time of the year seems to be terrible for Voldemort."
Harry only nodded.
"Now, Potter," said Snape from across the room, "I'm sure that you've been dying to know why I've switched sides. However, we could not be so fortunate," he smirked and continued, "As Mya told you during the school term, my mother was Eileen Prince, and she married my father, Tobias Snape. I believe it was the Dark Lord who said there are a striking number of similarities between us," Snape walked slowly towards the gap between the sofas, "You see I murdered my own father, pity that was, almost broke my mother's heart, if she had one left after my father beat it out of her,"
Snape stopped walking, he paused in his tale and looked around the room, "And then, Voldemort decided to pay a visit to my dear mother. She welcomed him into the house, offered him a cuppa, he looked at her, took out his wand and killed her. Right then and there in the front hall. He killed my mother right in front of me," Snape turned to Harry with a malicious look on his face, "You only remember your parents' deaths when you are too close to a dementor, but I have to live with that look on her face every single day of my life. I can't forget it; I was too old to not remember. There isn't a time that I don't think of her." He leaned over Harry, "Now do you know why I wanted that potions book? Now do you know why Mya kept saying that it belonged to a woman? Now do you understand?" Snape stood up and glared down at Harry, "No. You don't understand. You can't understand, that was your father's failing, too. He never understood Lily, and yet she would stand there and shout it at the top of her lungs, quite a bit like your friend Miss Granger. Yet you ignore her, just as he ignored her. You are no better and no worse than he was." Snape turned to walk away, but turned back and sneered at Harry, "And yes, you do strut." Snape walked away from them and out of the room, he cloak billowing behind him and whipping around the corner of the doorframe as he left.
The room was now silent. The shoutings of Draco and the silky tirade from Snape left the occupants not wanting to hear anything more. Harry and Ron sat there, on the sofa, in complete silence, neither wishing to arouse the anger of anyone else. Hermione was sitting there quietly; her hand in Draco's, neither saying a word. Harry could see that Ron was angry at this small act of intimacy, but he also knew the Ron was in no position to do anything about it.
Ron was glaring at Draco through lowered lids; he saw every movement of Draco's thumb on the back of Hermione's hand, caressing the skin. He saw how Hermione was content to let him touch her and it filled him with rage, she never let him do that to her. He remembered their quiet teasing banter in the kitchen and the joy in Hermione's eyes; she had never looked at him like that. His ears were heating up and turning red. It was only a matter of time before the red-head blew his top.
If there was anyone in the room that was amused, it was surprisingly Lucius Malfoy. He was hiding a grin at how Mya's friends were acting, rather like young children who had just received a good scolding than the young adults that Albus had lauded them to be. It was always so intriguing to beat someone down to the point of reckoning and then build them back up again. That is what had to happen to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley if they were to be of any use to the Order and the destroying of the horcruxes. Albus had known that, he had also known that there was no one better for the job than Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius grinned to himself; he would have to remember to praise Draco for that stellar performance. He could have hardly done better. Draco broke down everything that they had ever believed, tore it apart, ridiculed it and laid it bare before their eyes to see exactly what everyone else saw of them. It had been delightful to see the stubbornness fade from the eyes and then be replaced with recognition. The human mind is a beautiful and complicated thing; it's a terrible fact that people use so little of it.
Draco decided that he'd had enough of the silence, he stood up from the sofa, pulling Hermione with him. She groaned as her feet touched down on the floor, but did nothing else. They left the room together, hand in hand, and walked up the flight of stairs to the next floor where Draco kept a room.
Draco pushed open the door and led Hermione into the room. She smiled to him gently and let go of his hand. She walked over to his bed and just lay down on it in silence. Draco shut the door behind him, and then walked over to the bed and sat down on it near her hip. She looked up to him and said nothing. Draco studied her features and smiled. He pushed her across the bed, making room for him to lay there. She protested but slightly, and put up no major fight.
Once she was far enough over that he could lay down next to her, he did so, his head propped on his hand, and he looked down on her face.
Hermione smiled to him, "Well? I suppose that went rather well."
Draco let out a sigh, "Perhaps, if you like hearing your best mates yelled at by multiple people."
Hermione laughed softly, "They won't appreciate this now, but given time they will."
"I don't think I could ever appreciate someone chastising me over my treatment of you," said Draco gently.
"There is nothing to chastise."
"Oh, but indeed there is," said Draco half-seriously, "I do not kiss you as often as I should, and tease twice what is recommended." His free hand traced the outline of her face, "Have you told you lately how beautiful you are?"
"I don't recall the last time," said Hermione, "It's been a long time since we've had time to sit and be ourselves with each other." She pulled herself into a sitting position and scooted back so she could lean back against the pillows piled high on his bed. She patted the bed next to her and Draco was happy to oblige.
"I think that I'm glad we don't have to return for seventh year," Draco said.
Hermione looked sad at the prospect, "I think I would have rather enjoyed being head-girl."
Draco laughed heartily, "I don't doubt it," he scowled then, "But I can't imagine what smarty-pants Ravenclaw they'll make head-boy."
"There really isn't one fit to the task," said Hermione, "I don't know who they'll put in that position. With me and Ron gone, that's two less in the running, with you gone, that's another boy gone. It's all too difficult to decide, perhaps Blaise?"
"Perhaps," agreed Draco. He intertwined his fingers with her and brought her hand up to his mouth for a kiss.
Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, "And, what are you trying to do?"
Draco smirked at her, "I'm still a Slytherin at heart, regardless us not being at Hogwarts."
"Hmm," said Hermione, "And what does that mean for me?"
Draco looked her seriously in the eyes, "Hold on to your knickers if you plan on waiting."
Hermione blushed, "Oh," was all she managed to say.
"But," said Draco, a seductive look stealing across his face, and his eyes flashing, "If you'd prefer something else…I'm sure we can find a safe location for your knickers."
"Oh?" said Hermione, her eyebrow still raised, "Where would that be? Your trousers' back pocket?"
Draco shrugged, "I am what I am. Take me as is, or do your worse."
At that moment Draco had enough of wordplay and rolled so that he was straddling Hermione, she squeaked a bit in surprise but did nothing to prevent Draco from accosting her. He kissed her firmly and fully, it was heady and passionate and soon enough Hermione called it to a stop as Draco's hand had crawled all the way up her skirt and was resting in the most frustrating spot. But Draco knew that, and was willing to do nothing to allay her frustration.
"Hmm," said Hermione pulling out of the kiss, "That was lovely, thanks."
Draco looked at her funny, "You're thanking me for a kiss?"
"I have to switch it up sometimes. Now if you would be so kind as to move your hand." Hermione said, still flushed from their activities. Draco did something incredibly wicked with his hand that left Hermione gasping and a bright red color, "I meant to remove it, not that!" she cried indignantly between gasps for air.
"Not what?" asked Draco with a smirk, he moved his hand again as before, "That?"
Hermione nodded, unable to speak.
He did something completely different, "Or what is that?"
Tears were coursing down Hermione's face now, tears of frustrations, "Please?" she said in a breathy whine.
"Please what?" said Draco calmly, as though they were talking about passing the marmalade.
"Please remove your hand," said Hermione, having regained enough of her sense to try and keep Draco on his toes, so to speak.
Draco frowned, "Remove my hand?" he decided that was not a plausible option, "I don't think so." He did something again that left Hermione fighting to breath. She couldn't move because of their positioning, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to anymore. In any case, she decided that Draco was exceptionally handsome and witty and that his lips were far too kissable to remain unattached from her own. She reached up, put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him fully on the mouth. Draco had to remove his hand so he didn't fall after she tugged him towards her.
The kiss was almost frantic, it had been months, since the summer holidays that they had really been able to see and know each other. It was only a matter of time before they were fully reacquainted. Unfortunately, a knock came from the door at the very instant.
Draco pulled away and cursed into the pillow that Hermione's head was laying on. The person knocked again and Draco called out to ask for them to wait just a few moments. Draco sat up and stood from the bed, Hermione was still laying there, more than a little flushed. Draco was sure that he wasn't much better. They straightened each other's clothes as quickly as possible; Hermione grabbed a book from the bookcase surrounding the fireplace and jumped into one of the large, cushy leather chairs. When Draco saw that she was as virginal looking as a nun in a convent, he opened the door and was surprised to see his father standing on the other side.
Lucius looked at his son and at Hermione and just laughed, "You think you can fool me?" He walked over to Draco and wiped some of Hermione's lip gloss from his cheek, "I didn't know this was in fashion," he said with a smirk. He sat on the chair in front of the fire next to Hermione and laughed once again, "Are you in the practice of reading a book upside-down and backwards?"
Hermione flushed, but nodded, "It makes the brain think harder, and a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
"Excellent, excellent," said Lucius through laughter, "I still wonder that you are a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin. But no matter." He turned somber and said, "I believe that Severus said he would be cooking supper tonight, so you both have the night off to do some more pleasant things," he smirked, "Like reading."
"Splendid," said Hermione sarcastically. She flipped the book the right way up, stuck her tongue out at Lucius and continued reading.
Lucius laughed, slapped his legs and stood up, he looked at his son who was smirking and just laughed harder, "You'll be happy together, no doubt!" and with that he walked over to the door, "Oh, and I believe Severus said supper should be ready in about an hour."
"An hour?" said Hermione with a puzzled look on her face.
"He likes to take his time and do it all the muggle way, he was muttering something about foolish wand waving and cooking when I left," Lucius said with a sigh. He then turned and left the room, making sure to close the door behind him.
Draco turned to look at Hermione with a predatory stare; he stalked over to her, circled her chair, and leaned over her shoulder to see what she was reading. After deciding that it was boring, he found that the backside of her neck was much more interesting.
Hermione closed her eyes when she felt his mouth close over the sensitive skin when her neck met her shoulder. He continued whatever magic he was working, but then stopped.
"Why'd you stop?" Hermione said with a trace of a whine in her voice.
"Unless you want the wonder twins to know what I was doing, I reckon stopping is a good idea," he whispered into her ear.
Hermione groaned, "I hate them sometimes."
"No, you don't," said Draco. He stood up and sat in the chair next to her, "You don't hate them, and you can't hate them. You've been through too much together to hate one another." He reached for the Quidditch magazine that was on the side table.
Hermione looked at him with a pained face, "I know, but sometimes I wish I could hate them."
"Why?" said Draco, almost carelessly, as he flipped through pages of the magazine.
"Because it would make this much easier."
"Well, we need Potter," he said, looking up from an article that was decorated by a scantily glad witch ("I get it for the articles, honestly!") "He's the only one that can destroy the horcruxes without killing himself."
"I know," Hermione sighed. "I suppose we ought to discuss that over supper tonight, eh?"
"Probably would be a good idea," said Draco, flipping a page to reveal another scantily clad witch ("It's a wonderful article about polishing your broomstick, Mya! Honestly, you just don't understand Quidditch!"), "It strikes me that for all that he's managed to do so far with little knowledge, this is something that can't be rushed into."
Hermione nodded. She closed the book and set it down on the table between the two chairs. "There is a lot that we have to do," she flashed a disgusted look at the magazine, "You know I hate it when you look through that rag."
"There always is, Mya," drawled Draco, "I suspect life is like that. And this isn't a rag, I get it for the articles."
Hermione shot him a withering glare, "Get up, we have to go down for supper."
"Has an hour passed already?"
"Yes."
Draco smirked, "Well, I was rather occupied if you hadn't noticed."
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Once in the kitchen again, all six were seated around the table. Severus placed the supper on the table, glared at anyone who would dare to criticize it, and then sat down himself. Draco looked carefully at the stew that Snape had placed in front of him, and made a face as it bubbled up and belched.
"Draco," warned Snape, "It's not going to eat you. Fill your bowl, I want to eat."
"It belched," said Draco disgustedly.
"It's supposed to."
"It belched!"
"I heard it, Professor," said Ron. "It belched. Food is not supposed to belch."
"Take some damned stew and pass it on!" said Snape with a fierce look on his face.
Ron hurried to obey and filled his bowl to the brim, and passed the stew onto Harry. Harry looked at it carefully and then filled his bowl as well. The stew dish made its way slowly around the table, finally reaching Draco again. He looked at it disgustedly and ladled some into his bowl. Hermione filled hers up next, and then passed the dish onto Snape, who filled his bowl and then placed the dish in the middle of the table.
Draco was still looking skeptically at the bowl of stew in front of him. Ron, he noticed, had dug in feverishly, and seemed to be trying to eat before the stew belched again.
"Severus," said Lucius from the other end of the table, "I can assure you, that this is by far, the worst stew I have ever had."
"Thank you, Lucius," sneered Snape, "You know me, I aim to please."
"You mean you aim to kill," said Harry under his breath.
"Sorry, Potter," said Snape, almost carelessly, "I'm afraid that if you wish to insult me, it will have to be louder, I didn't quite catch was you said."
"I said, 'You mean that you aim to kill.'" Harry said slowly, enunciating each word.
Severus sneered, "If I'm going to kill someone, I'll do it correctly the first time, Potter. I kill because I am told to."
Draco looked down his nose at Harry, "You don't know the half of what went into getting Uncle Sev to kill Dumbledore. He almost didn't do it. You have no idea what went into that night to get everything to play out just so, so that no one was killed or seriously injured."
"No one was seriously injured!" said Ron incredulously, "My brother Bill is horribly disfigured for the rest of his life! Not seriously injured! He was attacked by a WEREWOLF!"
"Greyback wasn't supposed to be there," said Draco calmly, "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry that Bill was so grievously injured."
"That does nothing to make him look better!" shouted Ron.
Draco flashed him a look of contempt, "Is that what you think is important? His looks?"
"Well, no," stuttered Ron.
"Good. Bill Weasley is an amazing man who's done a lot for the Order, more than you'll ever know! He's also done a lot for Mya and me. We are grateful to him, indebted to him, even. If you think that because of Greyback's attack that people will like him any less, then you aren't the great family that I thought you were."
Properly chastised, Ron sat there in silence, eating the belching stew. He finally looked up, after thinking over what Draco had said. He pushed the bowl to the side and said, "Bill helped you and Hermione?" in a small voice.
"More than you could ever know," said Hermione who was finishing off her stew.
"What did he do for you?"
Draco sighed, "We ran into a bit of trouble while we were on holiday in Egypt. Miss Know-it-all over here," he said pointing to Hermione, "wanted to have a look at ancient Egyptian magical practices and was reading the hieroglyphs on the tomb walls, unfortunately the mummies and zombies in the pyramids didn't think too much of the idea. He saved her."
"He saved you too!" said Hermione, "You were ready to take that stupid heart scarab and, if I remember correctly, you were being chased by one of those Egyptian guardian spells."
Draco turned to her, "That heart scarab was priceless!"
"Yes! To the mummy!"
"And to me! It would've been great in my collection!"
"Um, guys?" said Harry, "Is this really important?"
"No, Harry," Hermione sighed, "It's not. It's just an old argument." She brushed some hair out of her face and smiled, "Now, we need to go over the horcruxes, and where we're going to get information on them. Uncle Lucius has a large supply of books concerning the subject so I think we should begin in the Malfoy's library."
"Why do you have such a large number of books about horcruxes?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"I've known about these horcruxes for years," Lucius said, "I've been researching their destruction ever since we discovered they existed."
"Have you destroyed any of them?"
"I can't," said Lucius looking at Harry, "But you can."
"ME?"
"You. Don't you remember that diary?"
"The one that almost killed my sister?" said Ron.
"Yes," Lucius grinned, "That had once been a horcrux. The first one that Voldemort ever made, if I'm not mistaken. You are the only one who can destroy them."
"Why me?"
"Your wand," said Lucius simply.
"My wand?"
"Your wand."
"MY wand?"
"Yes!" cried Draco, "For Merlin's sake, Potter! Your wand! The one that's in your pocket. That wand! The wand you bought from Ollivander's with Hagrid. That wand!"
"My wand?"
"Harry!" said Hermione, "Just shut it and listen!"
Lucius leaned forward, and pointed at Harry, "Your wand and Voldemort's wand are brother wands. You both possess one of Fawkes' feathers, and he only gave two." He paused a moment, thinking, and then continued, "Do you know why it is that the wand chooses the wizard?"
Harry shook his head, looking curiously at his holly and phoenix feather wand which he had pulled from his trouser pocket.
"The wand chooses the wizard so that the core elements in the wand match perfectly with the wizard's magic. Voldemort's wand is thirteen and a half inches long. It is made from yew and one of Fawkes' feathers. The other of which resides in your wand. What does yew signify in wand making, Mya?"
Hermione jumped at her name but answered, "The yew tree is a symbol of death and rebirth. But the wood is poisonous to humans. That is why it is better known as the death tree."
Lucius waved his hand, "Please, continue. Tell us all of it."
Hermione nodded, "Well, the yew tree itself can live for thousands of years. Some claim there are yew trees that are over 9,000 years old. But it is difficult to tell because they regenerate. The yew branches grow into the ground, so when the central trunk dies the tree itself lives on in the branches, which then grow into trees. That's why the yew tree is also a symbol of transformation, great age, and reincarnation."
Hermione stopped speaking, waiting to see if that was enough.
"Excellently described, Mya," said Lucius with a smile. "Now, Mr. Potter, could you be so kind as to tell us what your wand is?"
Harry nodded, "Eleven inches. Holly and phoenix feather, one of Fawkes' I've been told."
Lucius nodded, "Now, Mya, what is the holly symbolic of?"
"Holly?" Hermione said, pausing to think, "Holly is a masculine sort of wood. It is said that to carry a bit of holly on you is good luck—"
"—Wands, Mya," said Lucius in a bored tone.
"Oh, right," she blushed, "Holly wands are said to attract protection, healing, peace, goodwill, luck and anything having to do with the element of fire, such as the zodiac symbol Leo. Holly people are supposed to be balanced in a just fight, honest and hardworking, and tolerant of situations. Additionally, they tend to be magically advanced but clueless. They can be a bit showy and seek attention."
"Sounds like Potter to me," said Snape's wry voice, breaking into the discussion.
"Severus," said Lucius in a warning tone. He turned back to Harry, "Wands chose the wizard based on that wizard's personality and magical ability. The wood is symbolic of the person; the core is symbolic of the magic. But it is especially important that the wood and the core work in harmony."
Harry nodded, "Why is this important?"
"It is important because you must understand how you and Voldemort are linked. You must understand this so that you know that you can destroy the horcruxes."
"Harry," said Hermione, "It's like this house. I could see it here because I had no worries about not seeing it. You and Ron, on the other hand, worried that Professor Dumbledore's death would make the house unreachable, when you arrived here you found your worst fears confirmed. Magic is often mind over matter, the mind has to be stronger than the matter, or you'll never succeed. Did you never wonder why first year we started with matches into needles? It's an easy transfiguration. Hogwarts' professors train the mind to use the magic we are born with, to increase our capacity to force our mind onto something. It is as much about strengthening our magical abilities as expanding our minds."
Harry looked curiously at Hermione, "Magic is forcing our minds over something?
"Magic is not natural, Potter," said Draco, "It is out of sync with nature. We take the physics that muggles rely on and turn it on its head, physics and engineering and all those muggle sciences mean nothing in the world of magic. Where magic exists, the mind is the key; not what nature, maths and numbers say." Draco leaned over the table, "Magic is an anomaly in the world, and wizards know it. Oh, they'll never admit it; but they know it."
"What do you mean?" said Ron.
"Most know it, anyhow," sneered Draco.
"Enough, Draco," said his father, "Mr. Potter, we'll be going to Malfoy Manor for a week or so to do some research—"
Ron groaned.
"—This will take a lot of research, Mr. Weasley," said Lucius, "I'm sorry if that's not inviting to you. But that's how things are. I have been examining the diary, searching for magical traces that could indicate if something is a horcrux. It's slow going, I have only had this past year to work on it. You will be researching the Founders' possessions that have survived to this day. We need to know everything that they owned which could possibly be a horcrux."
"Well," said Ron hesitatingly, "My brother's wedding is tomorrow. Will we be able to leave for that? I promised Bill I'd be there."
"Yes, you'll be able to leave in the morning, and then return that night," said Lucius, "Promises are foundations of society, and if promises aren't kept then societies begin to fall apart."
"Yes, sir," said Ron. He then fell into silence.
The clock in the hallway sang the hour, it still hadn't been returned from when Mrs. Weasley charmed it to see her favorite Celestina Warbeck song. So,
Oh, come stir my cauldron
And if you do it right
I'll boil up some hot strong love
To keep you warm tonight
came trilling from the hallway. Draco gritted his teeth and glared at Ron, "Remind me to thank you mother for that charming melody. Whatever she did, I can't remove the charm."
"For once, Malfoy, I agree with you. Ron, as much as I love your mum, her taste is music is awful."
Ron flushed, "As though your mum listens to anything better, Malfoy!"
"She does! Anything but Celestina Warbeck!" With that Draco stood up from his chair and stalked out of the room.
"No offense, Ron," said Hermione, "but that song is horrible." She too stood up and left.
Ron looked after her, "Is it really that bad?"
"For Merlin's sake, Weasley! YES! You have no idea what it's like to listen to that damn clock for days on end," spat Snape
"I find that I've grown rather attached to it," said Lucius, "Of course, I've been stuck here for over a year. I believe I went mad months ago."
"Well, at least someone likes it," said Ron.
"Oh," said Lucius, "I didn't say I like it, just that I've grown attached to it. Rather like an annoying cousin you'd only see during the holidays."
Ron groaned, "I'll owl her to ask how to remove the charm."
"Don't bother," said Snape, "We're leaving first thing in the morning." He stood up and walked out of the room, robes billowing.
Lucius watched as he left, he sighed and stood up as well, "Well, boys, I suggest you get to bed. We'll be up early. I hope you don't mind side-along-apparation, we can't floo to Malfoy Manor, nor can we take the Knight Bus. Good night," and with that he walked out of the room.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Then they looked at the table and saw that all the dishes had been left there. Ron groaned.
"I'll bring the dishes to the sink, you wash?" said Harry.
"Fine."
Both stood up and cleaned up the remainder of supper. When they finished they left the room and headed up to bed, knowing the next day was going to be busy, unhappy, and most definitely not likeable.
Please Read and Review!
Well? Hope you all liked it, I've been working hard on this fic. We're a little less than halfway through, so please keep on reading.
I hope that small scene helps with the HG/DM lovers, I'm not very inclined to write huge scenes of passion and whatnot (I'm sure you know what I mean), that's not really my style. If that's what you're looking for, sorry. It won't show up in this fic.
KaytiSarai
